


The Requiem

by EternalAgape



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon through book 5 and could still logically fit into canon through the Final Battle, Don't copy to another site, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Reverse Chronology, basically a writing experiment, the end is technically the beginning of this story though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 14:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18390071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalAgape/pseuds/EternalAgape
Summary: “Promise me you’ll survive.  Promise me you’ll win and save us both.  Who cares about the rest of the world; just save us.  Promise me.”“Of course I promise.”Harry knew – maybe they both knew – that the words would likely end up a lie.





	The Requiem

**Author's Note:**

> This story features four moments that carried Harry through the final battle, but they are read in the reverse order of when they happened. The dark, angsty middle is book ended by two moments that focus on their hope for the future.
> 
> Inspiration for the tone of this piece is from the Linkin Park album A Thousand Suns.

**Part 1: The Requiem**

He had never considered what it would look like when it was all over, really. The stillness. The fallen bodies. He had never even considered that he would make it to the end.

People were silent.

_I was prepared to die._

And really, why should he have considered this ending? The odds were against him. He never expected to survive the cataclysm.

_And yet, I did._ _I did, while so many others didn’t._

“Harry? Harry!” a voice rang out from across the room. _Harry_ , not Potter. No; he hadn’t been _Potter_ for quite some time now. Not since the moment…the catalyst…that started it all.

“Harry!” And then the wind was knocked out of him, two arms winding their way around his back and holding onto him for dear life, holding him as if he had _died_ -

And he had.

“Harry,” Draco murmured into Harry’s chest. It took Harry a moment to wrap his arms around the man in front of him in return.

_I came back._

Draco’s body was trembling in Harry’s arms. “Draco,” Harry murmured, and after this, after _all this_ , he really was _Draco_. “Thank Merlin.”

“You promised,” Draco sobbed.

“I did. I almost broke that promise-” _Did dying and coming back count as breaking his promise?_ “-but I survived. I did it for _you_.”

“Thank you.” Harry wasn’t quite sure what he was being thanked for, and Draco couldn’t have explained if he were asked. Yet somehow, those words were enough for now. “ _Thank you_.”

They had time to parse the meaning of those words later; after all, despite what almost was, this moment was not their end. It was just the beginning.

**Part 2: The Cataclysm**

It was the beginning of the end. He knew it without a doubt; he would not survive this night.

_I am prepared to die._

His parents, Sirius, Remus – they had all brought him comfort, but at the same time, they renewed the sense of impending doom that sat heavy in the pit of his stomach.

_I promised him. I’m not ready to die._

Harry watched as Voldemort’s wand raised, the first sharp syllable of death on his pale lips, the wand tip pointing at Harry-

_I promised you that I would make it out. I promised you._

Harry could not watch. He shut his eyes, too afraid to watch but knowing all the same that this was his _duty_. This was his end.

_I’m sorry._

Thankfully, death was painless.

*****

And then his end was somehow…not.

He had been silly to think that this could be painless, that he could somehow save the wizarding world without any further torture. He should have known by now: his life could never be easy. He could never have things as he wanted them.

One word rang out in the darkness:

_Dead_.

**Part 3: The Radiance**

One night. That was all they could steal; just one night.

It was dark. Winter had set in long ago, and no matter the number or strength of the warming charms he used, Harry had never been able to completely rid himself of the damp chill that permeated his body. He always felt like he was shivering – his body shook uncontrollably, perhaps not just from the cold.

Harry had moved first. He shifted over on the log until his shoulder brushed Draco’s, feeling warmth for the first time in months. He sat still for a moment, waiting to see if this contact would be allowed. It was stupid; he knew that. They shouldn’t be here, and they shouldn’t be doing this, and they shouldn’t be _together_ -

Fingers laced with his own, slender ones that fit perfectly between his knuckles and brought so much warmth that Harry felt ready to cry.

Then a kiss on the cheek. That was all it was – so why did it fill him with all the radiance of a thousand suns?

He didn’t question it, though. He would need to hold onto that feeling in the days to come. It would only get darker, after all.

“Promise me you’ll survive. Promise me you’ll _win_ and save us both. Who cares about the rest of the world; just save _us_. _Promise_ me.”

_Save us? Win? I’ll be lucky to make it out alive._

But he promised all the same, giving one small nod in return. “No. _Say it_ , dammit. I need to hear this.” Draco’s voice was cracking, his weariness evident and his desperation even more so.

Desperate for what?

Nevertheless, Harry’s mouth moved of its own accord, the words, “Of course I promise,” coming out before he even had a chance to think about what he was saying.

Harry knew – maybe they both knew – that the words would likely end up a lie.

They clung to each other until the first rays of morning sun hit the forest floor.

**Part 4: The Catalyst**

Harry really had no idea how he had wandered all the way to Diagon Alley by himself. What was he thinking? There were Death Eaters around; he was sure of it. He could be killed. So why did he take the risk?

_Why wouldn’t I? I’m not safe anywhere_ , Harry thought bitterly. _What’s life without a little risk?_

And then he had taken a bigger risk: he had spotted Malfoy, pulled him into a dark alley, and apparated them both to a field Harry often went to scream into the void. As soon as their feet materialized in the tall grass, he was scolded for his recklessness.

“You absolute _idiot_. How dare you come out here?! Do you only think about yourself?”

_For once in my life, maybe I_ should. _Then maybe I won’t end up sacrificing myself for your own selfish safety._

“You’re not the only one who could be hurt by this,” Malfoy argued. “Do you think following the Dark Lord is _safe_? Do you think I ever had a _choice_?”

“Do you think _I_ did?” Harry countered. “All I did was _survive_. I didn’t have a choice in that, either. Do you think I’d do this willingly? Do you think I even want to be here?!” Harry nearly screamed, his breathing now coming in heavy pants.

“Why are you here then?” Draco asked, voicing the question that had been broiling beneath the surface of Harry’s thoughts for much too long.

“Where else would I go? I need to be here. I need to…to end this.” _Even if it means ending me_. “If I don’t die, he’ll win. You’ll have no chance. And if I _do_ die…”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Malfoy said determinedly.

“If I don’t die, then we _can’t_ win.”

And there was the problem.

Malfoy made a noise in the back of his throat – a keening sound that pierced straight through Harry’s heart.

A brush of their fingers – that was all that came next, and if Harry hadn’t been paying attention, he might have sworn it was the wind. He might have even been sure it was an accident if it weren’t for the way Malfoy’s eyes shut tightly at the moment of impact, for although it was just a brush of skin, it felt so much heavier.

It was a reminder of those hidden moments they had stolen together in sixth year – moments they both refused to acknowledge, just long enough to remind themselves that they were _alive_ despite everything that had happened to them.

That one touch was all they needed, really. It was all _Harry_ needed to convince him that maybe fighting wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he could survive this.

Maybe there would be an _after_.

“Don’t let this be the end,” Malfoy murmured, pleading for a dozen different things at the same time, not the least of which were the end of their lives, the end of _him_ , the end of – whatever _this_ was. “Promise me.”

“This is not the end,” Harry said solemnly, but his mind focused on only one of the many different possible _ends_ that he was determined to prevent, the only one he really had any control over. _I won’t let it be. Not for us._ “It’s just the beginning.”


End file.
